


Victor Nikiforov Hates Hot Yoga

by mooseholmes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: DANCER!YUURI, M/M, Victor is something I haven't decided yet, dance!AU I think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:11:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooseholmes/pseuds/mooseholmes
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki teaches a myriad of dance classes at the Hasetsu Recreation Center. Victor Nikiforov tries too many classes at the Hasetsu Recreation Center, but he hasn't tried any of the offered dance classes. He's about to.





	1. Chapter 1

"Look, I just don't think it's going to work out anymore."

  
"You haven't even tried! You made one effort and you're backing out already."

  
"I know, but some things aren't for everyone! I promise it's not you, it's me."

  
Christophe gave Victor a hard look. "Of course it's not me. **I**  don't drop things after an hour and a half, **I**  don't give up when I'm uncomfortable, **I**  don't complain the entire time I'm trying a new thing."

  
Victor gave him an equally hard side-eye. "That last one isn't true and the origami class we took last week is proof. Christophe, some people just don't like hot yoga, okay? And some people don't ever want to sweat that much from that many places in their entire life again, okay? Now let me fill up my water bottle in peace, I don't want to get dehydrated."

  
Christophe muttered something and crossed his arms with a huff, angrily scrolling through his phone as Victor's bottle slowly but surely filled with water. Victor looked at him suspiciously. "What did you say?" he asked.

  
"I said you don't sweat, you glisten."

 

"You're not wrong, you know, you are not wrong. "

  
"Are you done? There are people in line behind us," Christophe said, walking away before Victor had a chance to response. The abandoned capped his bottle and hurried to catch up to his friend, who had somehow managed to get halfway down the hall in a span of three seconds.

  
"Why are you so offended anyways? It's not like this is the first class we've tried and hated at the rec center anyways," Victor said.

  
"Sometimes first impressions matter, Victor," the other man said, his Swiss accent causing Victor's name to sound like the purring of a content cat. "And sometimes twentieth impressions matter too. It's all in the eye of the beholder, or something like that."

  
"Christophe!!!!!!" Victor's mouth took on a heart shape as his hands quickly rose to from the growing smile on his face. "You didn't tell me you liked the guy!!! You should've told me that from the very beginning, that is so cuuuuute."

  
"Victor - "

  
"Oh nooo and I complained a few times too! That's a little embarrassing for you, I suppose. Bring a friend to class and he hates it."

  
"Victor - "

  
"But he seemed really into you! The way you two were chatting after I came out of the restroom would've made anyone think you were a couple! And he kept looking at you during class too with those big blue eyes. Or were they green? I couldn't really see with all the sweat in my eyes."

  
"Victor - "

  
"Oh my god, what if he thought we were a couple? That could be really bad, I should go back and apologize to him right now!"

  
"VICTOR!"

  
The entire hallway flinched at the sound of Christophe's booming voice, and silence filled the air for an entire ten seconds before nervous chatter quickly filled the void. Victor looked at his friend for the first time during his tirade, a sheepish look overcoming his features as Christophe fixed him with another hard look.

  
"First of all, you complained the _entire_ time, not just a few times. Secondly, I never said I liked him, so shame on you for jumping to conclusions. But those were the right conclusions, so congrats to you. Besides, this is the fourteenth class of his that I've attended. I've made it entirely very obvious that I am into men," he said, gesturing to his overly tight shorts and tanktop stating 'I am bi-utiful'. "And I think I'm making it entirely obvious that I'm into him as well. I do not - I'm repeating this louder to make sure you're listening - I DO NOT need you interfering. I don't need another repeat of last time."

  
Victor's grimace at the memory of Christophe's last date running away from the burning car morphed into a pout as he realized the implications of his words. "Fiiiiine," Victor whined, shooting the other man another sad, soulful look before being sternly turned down. He let his gaze drop as he mourned his chance to play matchmaker when he heard Christophe scoff.

  
"He's pretty damn bendy in all the right places though, I'll give him that," Christophe said.

  
The sound of their laughter bounced off the stone walls of the Hasetsu Recreation Center, echoing down the various hallways and trickling its way into the numerous classes being held that Tuesday afternoon. The men chatted amicably as they made their way towards the exit, stopping to chat with a few regulars at the center and take their obligatory selfie in front of the center's exquisite green sign.

  
It was after said selfie that Victor's ears picked up an exquisite sound coming from the hall to his right. He looked up from his extensive scrutiny of the selfie before he posted it on social media, head tilting to the right as he tuned into what sounded like classical music coming from the hall. It sounded like Chopin, and this piqued Victor's interest even more. With a quick look at Christophe, who was talking to a very old and very lively man at the front desk, Victor pocketed his phone and followed the song.

  
The music led him to the very last room down the hall. Someone had left the studio's door slightly ajar, allowing the sound blaring from the speakers to drift all the way to the front of the building. The closer Victor got, the more he realized how alarmingly wrong he was about the song - it was not, in fact, Chopin, but rather a song with entirely too many drums and oboes to be Chopin. The singer's strong voice sent chills up Victor's spine as she sang about love and romance in a language Victor did not understand, making him wonder why he ever thought it sounded like Chopin.

  
His confusion and wonder and any thought he was about to think fell away as he gazed through the large windows into the studio, his eyes falling on the figure inside. Whoever it was had their back turned to him, but the way they moved took Victor's breath away in an instant. Long arms rose and fell, legs carrying the man (Victor could see that it was a man now) from one half of the room to the other. He gave a small leap through the air in time to the beat of the music, and Victor's heart leapt in time to his movements. The man danced with such grace and ease that he seemed to be flowing with the air instead of against it, his arms circled around an invisible partner as he worked through the song.

  
At one point, he spun to face the windows before spinning back in, allowing his unseen audience the first full view of his face, and in that brief moment, Victor's heart stopped. He was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, with dark black hair framing a set of dark brown eyes that seemed to hold the universe, with luscious lips that were curved into a smile so bright it could've been a star, with an expression so joyful and serene that Victor could've stared at it forever and never needed food or water again.

  
All too soon, the song ended, and the man's dancing came to a halt in the middle of the room, his tall and surprisingly muscular form falling out of grace after a brief moment's pause to get his water from the opposite side of the room.

 

Victor felt himself breathe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

  
"Wow, and I thought I had it bad," Christophe said, and Victor immediately stopped breathing again as his friend scared him nearly shitless. Christophe laughed as Victor clutched a hand to his heart. "Tell me I'm wrong though! I've never seen you so quiet in my life, and your mouth wasn't doing that heart-shaped thing it does."

  
"When did you get here?" Victor asked, avoiding all questions about the miracle he had just witnessed inside the dance studio. He still needed time to process the beauty he'd seen, both in the form of dance and man.

  
"About two seconds ago. Who is this mystery man that's got you so enamored aways?" Christophe asked, leaning in to look through the window."Oh! Oh he's kind of cute, and would you look at that! He's looking our way!"

  
At this, Victor's head whipped down from looking at the ceiling in exasperation to find a very startled and confused dancer staring at them, back flat against the wall and water bottle crushed in his hand. His eyes darted from Christophe to Victor, and in the moment their eyes met, Victor knew he was getting into something far greater than he'd expected.


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri Katsuki lived a rather simple life.

  
He was born in Hasetsu, had lived there his entire life, made his way through school, helped his family run their hot springs business, made the few friends he had, and fell in love with dance somewhere along the way.

  
It was all Minako's fault really. On one lonely evening of Yuuri's childhood (he could never really remember how old he was), after several months of Minako's insistent encouragement to join her class, Yuuri had finally stayed long enough to watch one of Minako's dance classes. Her students had practiced ballet for an hour and a half, and it had taken Yuuri exactly thirty of those ninety minutes to fall in love.

  
By the time he was in high school, Yuuri had learned ballet, salsa, the waltz, and countless other forms of dance. By the time he was done with college, he had won several ballroom dance championships and was set to open his own dance studio in Detroit. When a particular bad accident nearly tore both his calf muscles in half, Yuuri moved back to the safety and comfort of home, and there he had stayed, not daring to venture out any further.

  
His competing days had ended the night of his injury. The doctor had told him to stave off putting too much pressure on his legs for six months, but even after eight, Yuuri couldn't find the will to start dancing again. He took staying behind the scenes as an instructor, teaching part-time at Minako's studio and offering free lessons at Hasetsu's Recreation Center every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. He had a schedule, and with no other real reason to go or do much else, he stuck with it each and every week.

  
It was after one of these Tuesday classes that Yuuri found himself laying on his bed in deep contemplation. The class had been a normal one - he had taught his regulars a few particularly difficult tango moves, giving them tips and reminders on the rest of their routine as well. It was just a regular day...but something had felt different. As his students dispersed, Yuuri had felt an old and familiar twitch in his chest, and as the last of them said their goodbyes and filtered out the door, he had put on a rather catchy tune Phichit, his longtime friend, had sent him and stood in front of the mirror.

  
And he had danced. He hadn't danced in years, hadn't even put one foot in formation for more than four years, but the moves were ingrained in his soul. His body knew what he was doing before he did, and he let it. He had felt the music running through each and every muscle in his body, and he had let it. He had felt the joy coursing through his veins with each twist, turn, and leap, and he had let it. Yuuri had felt happy and whole for the first time in forever.

  
And then he caught them. The two strangers, probably there for the hot yoga class by the look of them. The moment he saw them, Yuuri's fears and anxiety came racing back through the doors of his mind, and everything had disappeared in an instant. The taller blond one had looked like he was laughing at him while the silver-haired man had just looked lost. Or confused. Yuuri wasn't too sure, he had quite literally sprinted past them and out of the rec center in a matter of minutes.

  
So maybe that wasn't the smartest move, but he'd never been known for making the best decisions. Which was probably why he was in the current state he was in.

  
Yuuri sighed and rolled over to face the window, watching the moonlight fall across the clothes haphazardly strewn across the floor. He reached out and put his hand through a beam of moonlight, turning his hand over and over in the light. He weaved his fingers through the air, and he pretended that they were dancers floating across the stars. He sighed again, letting his hands drop back down to the bed.

  
He had danced. He had danced, and he had liked it - no. He had loved it. It was all the beautiful old memories of competitions and lessons and elegance and grace rolled into four minutes of movement, and he wanted it all back. He wanted that feeling of serenity and bliss he'd felt earlier that day, he wanted that back forever. _Why not?_ He thought. _Why not? Why not?_

  
_You know why._

  
_You'll mess up again._

  
_You'll push yourself too far again._

  
_You'll let everyone down again._

  
_Stay. Stay here. Stay where you are. It's safe here, you're not in danger of doing anything wrong here._

  
_Don't go back._

  
For a moment, Yuuri believed it. He believed the lies he'd been telling himself for the past four years, the malicious thoughts his anxiety had spun for years, the false truths he had let himself believe.

  
And then he remembered. He remembered what it had felt like to spin across the floor again, to soar through the air like the eagle he had always imagined himself to be, to move with the familiarity and confidence that he had long forgotten.

  
And he remembered the face of that beautiful, beautiful silver-haired man. The one who had looked like he was lost. But now that Yuuri remembered it, he hadn't looked like he'd been physically lost, but rather mentally so. Like he had seen something that had taken him to a different world, a far far away universe, a memory long-forgotten. Like he had seen something...beautiful.

  
In that moment, Yuuri Katsuki made a decision. He would dance again. The world would see him dance, and Yuuri would be free and happy and whole once more. He wouldn't back out this time - no, this wasn't like all the other times he'd promised himself he would get back up from his fall. No, this time he remembered, and he didn't want to forget again.

  
Decision in mind, Yuuri felt himself drift off to sleep, curling his blankets tighter around him as he did. His last thought was that he would ask the silver-haired man why he'd looked so lost.

  
_Lovely, lovely man, why are you so lost?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally barely skimmed over this and called it editing, so sorry if there's any glaring mistakes! It's a little short, but seeing as it's midnight and a half, I am very tired. Also who knew, writing Yuuri's inner thoughts works best if you're listening to Avatar (the last airbender, not the blue people) music.

**Author's Note:**

> I know absolutely shit about dancing, sorry. Christophe is probably very ooc, but we're going to keep him that way because I said so. ALso what do Vic and Chris do for a living? Who knows, I sure as hell don't. In case you were wondering, the song is Senthoora from the movie Bogan, because that song is pretty lit. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
